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Other people sat on the benches and green chairs, but they were nearly always the same, Sunday after Sunday, and—Miss Brill had often noticed—there was something funny about nearly all of them. They were odd, silent, nearly all old, and from the way they stared they looked as though they’d just come from dark little rooms or even—even cupboards!
After looking on at the activity of the park, Miss Brill turns her attention back to those who are not taking part in it. Every Sunday, these people sit on the benches and chairs. She senses something odd about them. They are peculiar, quiet, and aged. They stare, watching the activity, as if they have been locked away in a box or on a shelf, like her fur, and then taken out for an airing. The irony is that Miss Brill also does all these things. She sits alone on her bench, quietly watching and listening in on the activity of others. She has shown herself to be funny and odd, talking to her fur and taking voyeuristic pleasure in what other people do and say. She comes to the park from her own “dark little room.” And yet, she lives in denial. She disparages the “other people,” not acknowledging that she is one of them.
They were all on the stage. They weren’t only the audience, not only looking on; they were acting. Even she had a part and came every Sunday. No doubt somebody would have noticed if she hadn’t been there; she was part of the performance after all. How strange she’d never thought of it like that before!
As Miss Brill watches the bustle of the park, she becomes excited when she realizes that she loves watching the scenery because it is “exactly like a play.” However, she denies being a mere audience member. She wants to belong and play a part in the drama of life. She wants to see herself as someone who not only looks on but who also acts, and in a role important enough that the other parkgoers would miss her if she were not there to play it each Sunday. Of course, this fantasy is just a form of denial that readers may see as creative or as something close to a delusion. Miss Brill is the audience. She does only look on. She plays no part, and nobody would notice if she weren’t there. She denies being an outsider because acknowledging her isolation would be devastating.
